How to Teach Your Kids to Ride a Bike (hint: Get Help)

Oh, we've tried to teach our kids to ride their bikes, believe me!  But considering I don't really know how to ride one - remember when I launched this blog declaring I would "learn how to ride a bike (without looking like a spaz)?"  Let's just call that a "work in progress."  And let's just say the kids' dad (an excellent cyclist) has a somewhat "low threshold" for whining.  So us teaching them has been a bust. 

Well, Bike New York to the rescue!  Bike New York, the organization that runs the 5-boro Bike Tour across New York City, also runs free Learn to Ride classes for kids and adults in city parks.  For all of us New Yorkers who grew up with nowhere to ride, there are now beautiful bike paths all over the Big Apple.  I took a class for adults in the Bronx and am saving (or burning) those pictures and writing up the stories (painful for me, hilarious for you, lucky readers!) for the book. 

But back to the kids.  11-year-old G was not looking forward to the lesson.  At all.  I believe "Another thing you're dragging me to!" were her actual words.  6 year old R obsessed "I might fall.  I'm going to fall.  I'm not going to like it if I fall."

Their teacher, Dan Suraci, hereafter referred to as "Dan Suraci, god bless him" was the most reassuring, tireless, able-bodied, and enthusiastic bike coach anyone could ask for.  I was exhausted just looking at him, running after and cajoling my kids for 3 hours while I sat on a bench in the shade, cheering and dispensing well-timed snacks.

The technique was straightforward.  First the pedals came off, so they could get the feeling of balancing and coasting on the bike.  Then they practiced pedaling while holding themselves steady while looking in the distance, which resulted, not surprisingly, more than once, in falling.  But then, much to my surprise, they worked through the betrayal ("Hey!  That hurt!  I thought this was supposed to be fun!) and got back on.

Why would my kids be willing to do something so painful again?  The key, I think was in Dan's tone of voice.  The voice that could say "Don't look down, eyes on me" a hundred times in a row without a hint of impatience.  He shared his passion with them.  They couldn't resist!

Don't get me wrong, in general, my husband and I love teaching our kids.  We felt a bit embarrassed calling   in professionals.  But we're old.  Our backs hurt.  We would have lasted 20 minutes out there.

In a class, they got to see a whole group of kids learning, falling, facing their fears and not giving up.  By the end of the morning they both got a taste of balancing on their two wheelers.  They are looking forward to practicing more and getting out on some trails with us (as soon as Mom can learn how to do it without looking like a spaz).

Thank you, Bike NY!

10 Years. Wow.

Coaster by G, age 11

Tonight, while tucking in to a grilled-by-Dad dinner in the backyard (6 yo R:  "This is the best steak ever.  And I've had a lot of food in my life."), 11 yo G asked me 'How many Mother's Days have you had?").

I had to think a moment, and then realized it's 10.  I've had ten Mother's Days.  There were 10 years before of being married without children, so many of those spent waiting and wanting, so many Mother's Days spent at church breathing in the scent of the flowers being passed out to the mothers in the congregation, and almost passing out with longing.  Wondering when god-time would become my-time, questioning whether it ever really would.

And then, on a cold day in northern China in 2002, G, bundled in sweaters and padded jacket and pants, so warm she was sweaty on the top of her head, came into my arms, making me a mother at last.  Five years later, R, flushed and equally well-padded, completed the circle.  I don't know how it's possible that ten years have passed, although I do know I have inhaled all the hugs, kisses, joy, responsibilities, frustrations, and blessings of motherhood in great hungry gulps.

Every Mother's Day, I think about those who want (adults and children alike) and pray for god-time to come at just the right time, and hopefully soon.

A tribute by 6 yo R:  "My mom likes to BLOG"
Truer words were never spoken!

Listen to Your Mother Show - Backstage, Onstage, the World's a Stage!

"How did it go??" everyone wants to know.  The first Listen to Your Mother Show to hit NYC is over, and I'm feeling its impact on every level, from my sore feet to my full heart to my blown mind.  I CAN'T WAIT for the videos to be posted to YouTube this summer, at which point I will offer you a link to experience the event yourself in all its hilarious, poignant, life-affirming glory.  In the meantime, a few pictures from behind-the-scenes to share the excitement of the day:

We took over the JCC on the Upper West Side of Manhattan; the sold out house filled up to the rafters.  

photo:  Holly Rosen Fink

Once we realized the buzz coming through the speakers in the dressing room was the live audience filling the hall, the nerves really kicked in - cast members rushed the bathroom, rummaged through purses for mints, sent last minute Tweets, checked texts one more time to make sure their babies were doing fine without them, and started taking iPhone pictures of everyone taking iPhone pictures: 

With Una LaMarche, of the New York Observer and The Sassy Curmudgeon

Emcee Rene Syler, @Goodenufmother, tweet diva!

Alysia Reiner, actress, model, mom - her little girl danced backstage dressed as a ladybug

With Estelle Sobel Erasmus

Estelle Erasmus and I took some deep breaths and meditated a moment, director Amy Wilson passed out gifts with the most important word of the day inscribed on them, we all held hands and wished the absolute best for each other, and then...

Showtime!

photo:  Holly Rosen Fink

I told the story of The Cookie Jar, a story I have been burning to tell for 6 years.  Here, with all these people listening, I shared one of the deepest moments I have had with my daughter.  At one point, the lights started flickering, as if taken over by a poltergeist.  Either that, or I was about to pass out.  In my high heeled pumps that started feeling teeteringly high, I thought I might falter as well.  But the story, with its joy and pain and a life of its own, carried me through.

When I sat down, the best part began.  You see, in my eagerness to TAKE THE MIC!  SPEAK MY MIND!  SAY MY PIECE!  I forgot the most important, most gratifying thing, the word engraved on the necklace Amy and the production team gifted us with:

 

Listen.

I listened to 14 beautiful, heartfelt stories from people I didn't know just months ago.  So brave, each and every one, stepping up to share, touching a room full of strangers who now know something essential about them, something deep and real.  None of us will be the same.

I was particularly thrilled to see my agent and editor after the show:

With Brettne Bloom of Kneerim & Williams, and Becky Saletan of Riverhead Books

And my parents.  Although they're so adorable no one will believe me now when I call them Tiger Parents.

With Ba and Ma

Here we all are, bright and beautiful.  Wait til you hear what we have to say. You'll want to run out and write your own story and be here next year.  And I hope you will.  We'll all be in the front row, cheering.

photo:  Jennifer Lee